


vibrato

by besselfcn



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: BDSM, Implied/Referenced Sibling Incest, Legacy Verse, M/M, Past Genji/Hanzo, Praise Kink, Shibari, Spanking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 13:57:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20565491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/besselfcn/pseuds/besselfcn
Summary: Genji does not know much about architecture or engineering, but he grew up beneath the sloping ceilings and monolithic towers of Hanamura. He knows about a slow buckling that looks like an instanteous collapse.





	vibrato

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Legacy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11089209) by [sciencefictioness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencefictioness/pseuds/sciencefictioness). 

> Hello! The cat's out of the bag with some aspects of Legacy backstory, so here's a little piece I wrote a while ago for sci's Legacy verse. For context, you'll probably want to have read [Legacy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11089209/chapters/24737466), particularly Chapter 13, and also at least the side pieces [Echo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17415965) and [Waters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20543762). Basically this shit don't stand on its own and it's purely fanfic of fanfic, eat up.

Structural collapses rarely happen due to one singular event.  


More often it is the culmination of events. Weather conditions that weaken the foundations; minor faults in design that line up in just the wrong way; carelessness; stress and strain; just bad luck.  


Bridges have been destroyed before because the motion of the wind struck the material’s resonant frequency. A feedback loop that caused vibrations so powerful they snapped metal cables and tore concrete like tissue paper. 

Genji does not know much about architecture or engineering, but he grew up beneath the sloping ceilings and monolithic towers of Hanamura. He knows about a slow buckling that looks like an instanteous collapse. 

\--

“Can I have a color, Genji?”

Genji breathes out slowly through his nose. He hadn’t realized how far he’d drifted off; his ass is stinging from being hit, but he’d stopped paying attention to it. Gabriel must have noticed.  


He leans forward; the ropes that connect at his ankles catch on his wrists, pull him back upright. He leans back; feels a steady hand grow stronger on his shoulder. Neither movement hurts.  


With the cloth blindfold around his eyes he can’t see which of them it is--Gabriel or Jack--but he supposes it doesn’t matter.

“Green,” he says, though his own voice still sounds faraway. “Sir.”

Gabriel hums, and he runs his fingers through Genji’s hair, nails scraping on his scalp. “Are you going to be good now? Keep your focus on us?”

Genji nods. “Yes, sir.

“Good,” Gabriel says, and his hand disappears.  


A moment later the blows begin again.

They’re steady and measured, Gabriel’s hand coming down hard on his ass, and even though he gasps out with each one he feels like he can hardly breathe with how much they sting. He can hear the soft sounds of Jack touching himself in front of him; feels dimly Jack’s hand cupping his face.  


“You’re doing so good,” Jack murmurs. He’s just out of reach; Genji could lean forward and taste him, but his arms are bound and-- “You’re a good boy. Stay like that, just for us. Little Sparrow.”

Genji’s breath slows again.  


_ Little Sparrow _ .

The words feel heavy out of Jack’s mouth, but warm--like a mug of coffee held in his palms. He’d asked for them. Cautiously, bashfully. All of this, he’d asked for it. The ropes. The spanking. The blindfold.  


They’d obliged.  


He’d needed it, after seeing--

The dull sensation of floating away is starting to fill his limbs as Gabriel moves on to his thighs, runs nails down his back and over the meat of his ass. He’s starting to feel weightless, all restrained like this, nothing to do but take it. And  _ you’re good _ , Jack says, like he’s from underwater,  _ you’re incredible _ .  


He doesn’t know how long it goes on; the praise, the blows. The hands that find their way into his mouth, or along the insides of his thighs, or threaded under the ropes and into his ass. He loses himself in the sensation of it, a body rocking back and forth under the push and pull of someone else’s hands on him.  


Genji feels stripped raw, and achingly hard, and thousands of miles away.  


The ropes pull at his wrist; something roars inside his chest.  


HIs mouth falls open, and it almost makes a horrible treacherous sound.  


“ _ Hhh-- _ ” he gasps, and then chokes on it, stomach seizing up, neck snapping back as he tries to physically swallow the words.  


_ It’s alright _ , he hears, and then clearer, with two hands on him. “It’s alright, you’re okay. You got a color?”

“Green,” he says, or at least mouths it, because his mouth still can’t be trusted. “Sss-s-”  _ Sorry. _

“It’s okay,” the voice says, and he feels more hands on him now too; one on his back, one curled up inside him, coaxing gentle noises from his throat. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

_ No _ , he thinks, and his mouth opens and shuts as his throat works. “H _ hh _ \--”

The rocking of his body; the multitude of faults and cracks that spread throughout his ribs.  


Carelessness. Stress and strain.  


“You can say it,” says Gabriel’s voice in his ear, his arm wrapped around Genji’s chest. “It’s just us. You’re safe. You can say it.”

Genji collapses.

“Hanzo,” he gasps out, body shaking as if with release, and Gabriel grips him tighter while Jack jerks him off. “Hanzo, please,  _ please _ .”

“You’re okay,” says the voice in his ear, and the ropes around his wrists, and the hands that circle around him. “You’re okay. We’ve got you.”

“I need him,” he gasps out, and he feels hot tears against his cheeks. “Please, Hanzo,  _ please _ ,” and he comes suddenly like a cable snapping, with his brother’s name on his tongue, the way it was always supposed to be.  


\--

After they clean him up--rub the ligature marks from his wrist, wash his belly with a hot towel, gently ease the blindfold off and lay him down to sleep still half-drowned in subspace--Jack and Gabriel sit awake and share a cigar.  


“So,” Jack says, and he glances sidelong at Gabriel. “How was that ropes demo?”


End file.
